


Catch the tooka by the tail

by RoverKelevra



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bodhi is the best brother, Crack, F/M, Feelings, Pining, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Unresolved Sexual Tension, references to sexual content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-07
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-30 20:22:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12660738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoverKelevra/pseuds/RoverKelevra
Summary: It was just a joke, how did it end up like this?aka Jyn bought Cassian hilarious boxers as a prank and cannot deal with the consequences





	Catch the tooka by the tail

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brynnmclean (ilfirin_estel)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilfirin_estel/gifts).



> So this began as a conversation between Brynn and me about what underwear Cassian wears. We started googling funny boxers, bantering back and forth about an amusing scenario, and then I foolishly started writing it, imagining it wouldn't take long and would be short and just funny. Then feelings happened. Seven and a half thousand odd words later... This was just a bit of crack, how did it end up like this?  
> Thank you Brynn for beta reading this madness <3 I'm sorry it took so freaking long to finish

Jyn waves absentmindedly to Cassian as she and Bodhi pass through the main hold, their conversation muffled by the constant rumble of the ‘new’ Rogue One’s second-hand hyperdrive. Judging by the toolbox Cassian’s setting down, he must be about to start work on fixing something or other, probably making use of the crate of spare parts they were lucky enough to appropriate during their last mission. Force knows the ship was in dire need of repairs even before they got their hands on it. Mesh tape is only supposed to used as an emergency fix, not to hold the whole thing together.

Cassian bends over to lift a deck panel, his shirt riding up and coming untucked as he works. Just enough of his slender back is revealed to be quite distracting. Not enough is revealed to satisfy her curiosity. Jyn keeps reminding herself to look at Bodhi, hoping he doesn’t notice the way her feet have slowed and her eyes keep sliding back to where Cassian is working, where he’s now dropping down to lay on his front and reach into the space below the deck. There’s a painful twisting in her gut as she sees the long straight surgical scars that frame his lower spine for the first time. And yet they are a tangible reminder that he survived. Jyn’s gratefulness for that battles her guilt over being the cause. She wants to touch them, run her fingers lightly over them, feel for herself the evidence of his survival. The way the scars shift over his supple muscles is hypnotic and it takes considerable willpower to tear her mind and gaze away, back to Bodhi.

Her attention is not held long before she’s again distracted. This time she completely loses track of what Bodhi is ranting about – his now wild gestures going unappreciated – when she spots it out the corner of her eye.

A flash of blinding yellow.

She does a double take. When Cassian shimmies forwards to stretch down further, the top of his trousers are pulled down his slim hips and Jyn sees the waistband of his underwear. The neon yellow waistband with just a hint of the pastel yellow and purple stripes on the fabric beneath.

 _He can't be._ He can't seriously be _wearing_ them? It was a _joke!_

Her head collides with the doorframe with a _clunk._ Jyn grunts at the sharp pain as she stumbles slightly on the rebound and steadies herself with one hand on the doorframe.

“Still feeling the effects of last night?” Bodhi laughs as he reaches out to steady her.

Ignoring his jibe she rubs at the dull ache. Kriff, that’s going to bruise. Just what she needed. Blast it, Cassian.

 ** _Wait._** _Cassian. The boxers._ _The_ ** _tooka-cat_** _boxers._ Surely she imagined it. But no. When she looks back over, that nauseating band of yellow is still there, peeking out at her, taunting her. Her jaw drops open. She pictures the way the broad stripes must be stretched taut over his firm— _No._ Stop that thought _right now._ It’s inappropriate, she reminds herself firmly. She doesn’t know for sure how he feels about her. She’s probably misreading or imagining the lingering glances, the constant touches, the way he only seems to truly smile at her (or so Bodhi insists).

Nevertheless, she savours it every time she catches Cassian staring at her, his face impassive but his eyes promising _something_ more, even as she fights the blush that creeps up her neck when he catches her staring in turn. His stares are likely for an entirely different reason than hers. He probably just wants to tell her she has something caught in her teeth or to put that vibroblade back where she ‘found it’. Just like she doubts he feels that little tingle every time they touch, because it’s weird enough that _she_ does. But she can’t get enough of the way he sends sparks through her, lighting up her senses with everything that is _him._ His little smiles are rare and Jyn feels a silly flush of pride every time she teases one out of him.

Cassian’s eyes are often the only indication of his feelings, and they speak volumes, but his smile – a real smile, not just a grudging half-grin – takes her breath away with its beauty and the way he opens up, lets himself be seen. Jyn can’t risk him closing himself off from her. Can’t risk him leaving her. He’s the only one who’s ever come back for her. She can’t risk giving him an excuse to leave her if it turns out he doesn’t feel the same way. She’d rather endure this endless hunger and be close to him than risk that. She just has to keep herself under control. The occasional urge to run her hands over his back is one thing but anything below the waist is too far. The temptation too much. If she lets herself think about what lies beneath the waist and his tailbone—

Oh no. The tail. _Pfassk._ She can remember the fluffy little tail printed on the back of those boxers perfectly. The anticipation of presenting them to Cassian when she found them at a market on Rishi had made her bounce with glee. But now the tables have turned. He’s retaliated by using her own weapon against her, seeking to break her resolve by indirectly confronting her with the knowledge of what he’s wearing. He’s decided to play it cool and take up her challenge. Because who could beat a spy in a battle of composure? Now he’s forcing her to show herself up in front of the others with her embarrassment at him wearing such ridiculous underwear, that _she_ bought for him.

Kriff. Those boxers. On Cassian. That _tail._ On _Cassian._ _Nope. No. NononoNO._ She _cannot_ deal with this. How is she supposed to deal with this! That hutt-sucking son of a _bantha._ He _must_ be trying to get back at her. This is deliberate. Sure, he _was_ pretty mortified by her presenting him with the boxers in front of the rest of the crew; so much so it actually broke through his resting spy face enough for his ears to turn bright red.

But surely it wasn’t so bad he had to get back at her somehow. Could he really be so eager for revenge – to burn the image of him wearing them into Jyn’s mind – that he’s willing to withstand the others mocking him for wearing them? She remembers Kay’s comment about how she’d managed to purchase the correct size. Chirrut’s remark that even he could see them with that waistband. Bodhi’s endless giggles about the tail. Baze’s query whether they match a theme in Cassian’s underwear. She sighs internally. Of course he’s eager for payback.

“—you okay?” Bodhi’s voice breaks into her daze. He’s hovering in front of her, looking concerned. The rest of their surroundings come back into focus, but Jyn can still see the boxers beyond Bodhi’s shoulder and cannot take her eyes off of them. “Jyn?” Bodhi’s fingers flutter from her arm to wave in front of her face.

Swiping Bodhi’s hand out of the way, Jyn keeps her voice low, trying to ignore the hammering in her chest. “Yep. Fine. I am – _good.”_ She swallows hard. “Yes. Good. And _fine.”_

She is not fine. But she just can't wrest her gaze away from those stripes disappearing down into Cassian's trousers. And the way the bushy tail is gradually revealed as Cassian moves. His scarred lower back and the way his trousers fit snugly speaks volumes about how trim he is. Sinuous muscles flex as he shifts position. The sight is more than enough to rekindle at least a dozen idle (and quickly suppressed) daydreams – and spark a dozen more – involving her touching that mesmerising lithe form. Dreams in which he was usually naked but that now feature the boxers she gave to him. She gulps. **_Kriff._ ** _Breathe, Jyn,_ **_breathe._ **

“Are you sure you’re fine? It's just, your face is – doing something weird. How hard did you hit your head?” Bodhi's voice lilts up with more than a hint of teasing.

“What? Jyn hit—?” Cassian’s muffled voice mixes one part confusion and two parts concern as he hurriedly pulls himself back up.

Jyn's neck warms uncomfortably as she watches his shirt slip back down again to cover the offending underwear. She quickly stamps down her disappointment. Too late, Jyn finally succeeds in forcing herself to avert her eyes, just in time to notice Bodhi looking from her to Cassian and back again. A grin spreads across his face.

Bodhi has a smile that warms like radiant sunshine after a storm. Most of the time Jyn loves to see him so happy. Not so much on occasions like these. His teasing regarding her self-indulgent crush on Cassian has been steadily escalating. Bodhi can’t seem to resist ribbing her about how “romantically challenged” she is, as he likes to call her awkward – yet justified! – refusal to act on her feelings. It almost makes her regret having ever longed for a sibling.

“I’m _fine,”_ she grinds out as Cassian hurries over to her, his hands coming up to gently cup her increasingly flushed face and turn it first one way then the other as he looks her over for any sign of harm. She struggles to concentrate on where she is and what they’re talking about as Cassian’s hands palming her shuts down all coherent thought. “I just,” she takes a deep breath to centre herself, inhaling a lungful of his musky scent – _kriff_ – and tries to force words out past her shameful disorientation, “I just wasn't looking where I was going and banged my head slightly.”

Bodhi’s lewd gestures and miming of kissing from where he stands safely behind Cassian are less than helpful in slowing the rush of blood to her face and ears.

“Are you sure?” Cassian's concern as he lays the back of his hand on her forehead doesn't help her lack of composure either. “You feel warm, feverish. Maybe you’re coming down with something. Do you feel dizzy?”

“Yeah, Jyn. Any dizziness?” Bodhi leaps in with enthusiasm. “Maybe you need to sit down, recover, Cassian can help you to a seat!”

She scowls at Bodhi. It only drives him to put his fist in his mouth to stifle the laughter shaking his shoulders. He’s having _way_ too much fun with this. Oh, she will get her revenge on him later. Bodhi’s not completely immune to her own brand of teasing, especially where Luke is concerned.

“Yes, come sit—” Cassian’s hands glide down to lead her by the hand and support her at the waist.

“I'm _fine._ I am not dizzy and I do _not_ need to sit down.” Jyn pulls roughly out of his tender hold, immediately feeling guilty at the hurt expression that flashes across Cassian’s face before instantly being quashed. “I’m fine,” she repeats, more gently. There's just time to spare him a reassuring smile (though it feels to her more like a grimace) before she spies Bodhi opening his mouth to no doubt tell Cassian ‘she's just overwhelmed by the sight of his behind’.

“Jyn—” Bodhi starts before she cuts him off.

“Come on, Bodhi,” she growls, “how about I show you that headlock I’ve been working on.” Jyn quickly drags him from the room. He bursts out laughing as soon as they leave, the noise echoing throughout the freighter.

Glancing back, Jyn sees Cassian is just standing staring after them. His head tilts slightly as the corners of his eyes crinkle. She throws him a forced grin before hurrying away.

Shoving Bodhi into the cockpit, Jyn hits the door controls somewhat harder than necessary to close it behind them. Bodhi collapses into the pilot's chair in another fit of laughter. She decides to wait him out, crossing her arms and leaning against the door as she glowers down at him, starlight streaking over them. At least her face seems to be cooling down now, leaving just the back of her neck burning.

It doesn't take long before Bodhi regains control of himself, though he nearly loses it again when he spins his chair around and he looks up at her with a snort.

“So—” He coughs to clear his throat. “So. Got distracted by the view, huh?” The seriousness of his tone is easily disproven by the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“I don't know what you're talking about,” she says far too quickly and swallows hard, gritting her teeth against the instinct to defend herself.

“Are you sure?” A sly grin threatens to take over Bodhi’s whole face. “That bump protruding from your head says otherwise, you know.”

Jyn's hand makes it halfway to her head before she halts the impulse. “I just–”

“Got distracted by Cassian's ass?” Restrained no longer, that impish grin wins the fight and spreads across Bodhi’s face, glorying in its triumph.

Jyn won’t give him the satisfaction of admitting he's (partially) right. She refuses. But there's no point in denying it. Denial would only give him more ammunition. Instead, she focuses on expressing the full force of her irritation with a steady glare.

Bodhi relaxes back in his chair, hands linked behind his head, flesh and durasteel entwined. He stretches his legs out and rests his shabby boots on the co-pilot’s seat, lounging in the casual manner of one who knows they’ve got a sure thing. He smiles back at her–waiting–yawns exaggeratedly, and idly scratches at a scar.

Their battle is silent as they stare each other down. But it’s clear she lost this one before it even began. The flames on the back of her neck spread, blazing a path across her face once again.

Conceding defeat, she sighs and throws her hands up in the air. _“FINE._ Yes! I got a little distracted!”

“I knew it!” Bodhi slaps the console with his new hand – wincing slightly at the loud clonk and rubbing at the tiny dent – before his exultation erupts in giggles. He shakes his head disbelievingly. "You walked. Into. A _wall._ Beca—” He interrupts himself to regain his breath. “You walked into a wall because you were staring at Cassian’s _ass!_ So much for your ‘constant vigilance’ attitude. Oh wait – no, you were _definitely_ aware. _Very_ aware.” The git pauses for dramatic effect. “Of his _butt.”_

Jyn, her face scalding, stutters before she can help herself, "We–well, I mean, he _does_ have a nice butt, but that's—"

"Has Cassian never bent over for you before?” Bodhi wiggles his eyebrows at her, goggles bouncing in their careful balance. “Was the shock too much? Were you blinded by the sight of his behind?” His own terrible jokes clearly become too much for him when his breath is taken in another fit of laughter.

Jyn’s face and neck sizzle, her ears smoldering. Bodhi is relentless, as always, and clearly not planning on stopping anytime today. “I’ll get you later,” she huffs with an edge that is only half-serious. Bodhi’s only response is to snort and laugh even louder. Jyn punches the door control and storms out, not bothering to lighten the tromp of her heavy boots. Gales of laughter follow her all the way back down the corridor.

She stomps back into the main hold, but stops abruptly at the vision before her. It's the same sight that started this whole karking mess.

Cassian’s leaning even farther down than before, if that’s possible. His upper body is mostly upended in the crawlspace and the only thing that seems to be keeping him from toppling down into the mess of wires and parts is the ankle curled around a nearby beam. Jyn’s torn between unhooking his foot to tip him in or lending assistance and counterweight by straddling him with her hands on his hips.

A low growl escapes her dry throat. Another turbulent heat wave washes over her. For a brief moment, she forgets how annoyed she is supposed to be. She swallows, her mouth a desert, overcome by thirst. The desire to quench it by licking up the rivulet of sweat glistening on his back is overwhelming. She slowly steps closer, a small distant part of her noting how careful she’s being to make as little noise as possible, moving the way she usually does when creeping up on unwitting victims right before pouncing on them. Her eyes follow the sweat as it trickles from the damp waistband of his underwear to his bare shoulders. Hang on. What. _Bare_ shoulders. _No shirt._ Her lungs freeze up until they are burning and she exhales at last in a low gasp, moving to take a quick step back but catching a tool with her foot as she does so, sending it rattling and rolling across the deck. It startles her and she ends up teetering on the edge next to Cassian briefly before regaining her balance.

The clanking of whatever he’s doing pauses, Cassian’s head cocking to one side as he grunts, “Just a second. Almost got this out.”

Standing over him, Jyn freezes with indecision, choked with guilt for how she’s ogling him but unable to tear herself away from the alluring view. His arms and shoulders flex and his breath comes out in huffs as he twists about with the wrench. The sight and sound sends her fantasies plunging into whole new depths as she imagines him flexing over her, or beneath her, lifting her, and pinning her, his strong arms around her, holding her fiercely, like he did on Scarif. It’s as though the memory of his hand on her back is burned into her skin, invisible yet still keenly felt. She yearns to hold him again, his rough cheek nuzzled into her neck, his lips pressed to her skin, searing it in blissful ecstasy.

It’s touch and go as he wriggles backwards towards her, levering himself up and out, but Jyn rallies herself just as Cassian turns towards her. She darts backwards and grabs his shirt from where it lies discarded by the toolbox. She twists the soft fabric in her hands, burying her fingers in it as she waits for him to toss some small but probably broken bit of the ship to the side with a heavy clunk before she hesitantly holds it out to him.

“Thank you,” he says warmly, the corners of his tempting lips tilting up as he reaches out to take his shirt, their fingers brushing against each other. Jyn’s lips twitch into a shy smile in response. Cassian uses the shirt to wipe futilely at the black grease on his slender hands and she’s mesmerised by the action briefly before her gaze is drawn to his chest.

Jyn’s breathless and salivating at the sight of it, smeared with oil and covered in fine dark curls that she longs to trail her twitching fingers through. She swallows and quickly drags her gaze upwards to his face – red from hanging upside down into the workspace – and determinedly fixes it there just as he stands up, heaving out a breath of exertion.

Angrily, she tries to suppress thoughts of how even the patches of oil just serve to make him even more attractive. The raised eyebrow and flick of his dark eyes back towards the distant laughter ask an obvious question that reminds her why she’s here and that it’s him she should be pissed at.

 _“YOU.”_ Jyn stomps closer to him to jab a finger at his chest, changing course for his face at the last moment. “This is _your_ _fault!”_ Another finger wag punctuates her accusation.

Her discomfort isn't helped by Cassian simply contemplating her bemusedly. As if he has no idea what he's done!

It certainly doesn’t help that it’s harder to hold her composure this close to him. She’s uncomfortably aware of how easy it would be to reach out and stroke him, to run her hands up his muscular arms, over his shoulders, down his glistening chest. Jyn notes how still he’s holding himself, wonders if the visible tension in his exquisite muscles is normal for him or if it’s a result of her close proximity whilst he’s only half-dressed. She feels ashamed at making him so uncomfortable and takes a step back, crossing her arms and looking away as he hurriedly puts his now dirty shirt back on. She can’t help but witness a fraction of the splendor out of the corner of her eye, but doesn’t look back till he’s dressed again and tucking the shirt back in, burying all trace of the instigator of this trouble.

 _“What's_ my fault?” His confused tone is almost believable as he scans her face and crosses his arms. “Are you sure you're feeling alright?”

“I'm _fine._ And you know perfectly well _what,”_ she retorts, thoroughly determined to deflect her embarrassment off onto him, the rightful recipient.

The other eyebrow joins the first. He waits.

She fidgets, looks around to double check none of the others are around. The last thing she needs is Chirrut or Kay catching wind of this; though, knowing her luck, Bodhi is even now seeking them out to regale them with what he witnessed. Turning back to Cassian, she mutters a few choice Huttese phrases.

“The _boxers!”_ she hisses.

A light puff of air from his mouth blows gently at her hair. He looks down as his mouth breaks into that all too rare grin she loves, his eyes flick up and look at her at her through his hair with a hint of bashfulness that is all too charming.

“Which boxers?” he teases.

“You know _bloody well_ which ones!”

Another almost laugh. “What about them?”

“You're _wearing_ them, you di’kut!”

“Was I not supposed to?” he says slowly and quietly, unnaturally neutral in tone, a sudden departure and a far cry from the easy humour of before. It takes Jyn by surprise. Is he _nervous?_ His dark eyes flick over her shoulder to the doorway and then back to her. She was expecting a smug smirk, not a nervous biting at his lip. Jyn frowns as she tries to puzzle out this sudden change in mood. Why would he be nervous at the others turning up now? Surely her humiliated reaction was the point?

“How did you know anyway?”

“Your, uh. Your shirt. Um.” Unable to withstand his piercing gaze any longer, Jyn coughs slightly as if to clear her throat, raising her fist to her mouth and looking down at the deck. She quickly continues in a barely audible tone, “Your shirt rode up at the back and your trousers slipped a bit when you bent over to – to work on that.” Lips tightened in a grimace, she gestures down behind him at where he had been working.

Even with the strange shift in mood Cassian’s reaction still surprises her. It’s far from the expected satisfaction of revenge successfully executed. Instead, he freezes for a moment before swallowing hard and looking at where she had pointed. It’s got to be an act, the build-up to the punchline. When he turns back to her, his gaze is still on the deck and his tongue darts out briefly to wet his lips.

That familiar mannerism revives her now torturous thirst. She’s desperate to satiate it with the taste of his lips and tongue. Suddenly lost and confused, she cannot help but feel drawn to him. She wants to lick the sweat from his neck, rip that shirt back off his chest, lose herself in the heat of him. Jyn could happily let herself be consumed by him.

“Oh,” Cassian says softly at last, startling her from her reverie.

She tries to pull herself back together. “Yeah, _oh,_ indeed. Honestly, I didn’t—”

“Wait. Bodhi saw too? He was—” Cassian cuts himself off and cringes. He looks up at her through his fringe, something in his eyes and voice that if she didn’t think she knew better she would have identified as panic.

“No,” she replies slowly, taken aback, trying to figure out what his angle is here, but also wanting to comfort him. Is he _embarrassed?_ “Bodhi was laughing about me banging my head.” Jyn grimaces and hopes Cassian doesn’t realise the full reason _that_ humiliating incident occurred.

His lips twitch downward and Jyn’s hopes are dashed.

But she’s quickly distracted when Cassian rakes his fingers through his tousled locks to brush it off his face the way she always wants to reach out and do herself. It’s not that she dislikes the way it tumbles down in front of his eyes. Quite the opposite in fact. The image of Cassian watching her through those dark strands from either above her or between her legs has featured heavily in her forbidden fantasies and frustrating dreams. Rather, she just can’t stop imagining doing it for him, brushing his soft hair slowly back with her hand to let him see her clearer (another conjuration of her selfish desires).

He raises his hand to his mouth and coughs. Jyn jumps. Pfassk. She’s been staring at him for Force knows how long and they’ve been standing in awkward silence. Quickly, she feigns at her own hair irritating her and tucks her bangs behind her ear. Cassian’s hand twitches slightly before he stills and stiffly drops it back to his side.

Before she can wonder about what he restrained himself from doing, he speaks up again, his eyes not quite meeting hers, “So, um, just how hard _did_ you hit your head? It looks pretty red still.”

“Hard enough,” she retorts, “and don’t think I’ll forget it’s your fault either.” Jyn pokes him hard in the chest. She regrets it instantly, both because he’s now wearing a shirt again and because she can’t help but imagine him without it.

“You keep saying that but I don’t see how it can possibly be my fault you were—” he breaks off abruptly, drawing back the arm that briefly reached out to touch her before he even makes contact. He’s still not meeting her eyes. His sudden unwillingness to touch or look at her hurts. It’s painfully contradictory from their usual ease and closeness. “Look, I didn’t know you and Bodhi would come through whilst I was down there,” he mollifies her, his hands raised placatatingly, “and I didn’t realise my shirt had come untucked.” His hands dart back down to check it and tug his trousers back up his hips. “I’m sorry,” he adds, his intonation almost making it into a question.

Jyn feels another heavy stone join the rest of the growing collection in the pit of her stomach.

Cassian’s hair falls forward as his head tilts down revealing the unusually bright red tinge flourishing in his eartips. She thinks they might match her own. Jyn’s mind is buzzing, coming to a standstill as she attempts to deal with Cassian knowing she walked into a wall because she had been staring at his ass.

Force help her, she wishes the inferno on the back of her neck would just light up the rest of her already and burn her away so she didn’t have to endure this humiliation any longer.

She tries to think of some way to just end this now and move onto Cassian starting to distance himself from her. Get it over with already. She’s certain that’s the next step. If he’d wanted her, surely he would have said something by now. She should say something, but she’s drawing a complete blank, paralysed with fear of what’s to come and trying to resist the sinking weight in her heart threatening to drag her to her knees.

Suddenly, she’s hit by a realisation and before she can stop herself from making all of this even worse, she blurts out, “Hang on, if you weren’t planning on showing that underwear off like that to get back at me then why wear them?”

“Wh–what?” Cassian looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers at last, his expression warring between startled, confused, and that look again that can’t possibly be panic – what does _he_ have to panic about here? It’s her who has trespassed across their unspoken boundary. He should be upset, maybe angry, but not _scared._ “You thought I was wearing them to get _back_ at you? For _what?”_

“Well—” Jyn spreads her hands helplessly and twists her lips. Unable to withstand his gaze she looks down at their feet, cursing her lack of restraint in keeping her damn mouth shut. But she may as well continue. He’s already going to leave her. It surely can’t get _much_ worse. So she screws her eyes shut as spits the rest out, “Well, why else would you wear them?” She leans against a wall and crosses her arms over her painfully tight chest. Breathing hurts. She can’t bear to look at him so she stares down at the deck.

He keeps her waiting in silence but for her dying heartbeat, an agonising punishment for her indiscretion. Her heart thuds so loud she’s sure it’s audible over the hyperdrive. It feels like it’s fighting to break free and with lack of any better option is attempting an exit via her throat. A wave of nausea almost sends her running for the refresher, but she stands her ground, determined not to show how severely affected she is by all this.

Maybe she can still salvage their friendship. Grip her sleeves hard enough to stop her hands shaking. If she can convince him it’s no big deal, that she was just surprised he wore the boxers— not that she can’t stop thinking about stripping out of all his clothes _except_ for them. And then stripping him out of them as well.

Perhaps she can show she’ll keep a respectful distance from now on. Grit her teeth to keep her jaw from trembling. He might even take that as a sign she’s just pissed at him still. Anger can be dealt with, explained away as a mood swing or some other banthashite. If she can just brush this off as a one time only slip-up then maybe. Maybe he won’t ask to be re-assigned to a different crew. Or worse, ask for _her_ to be. Losing Cassian (and Kay along with him) will be devastating enough – she knows herself well enough to admit that – losing the others too will destroy what little is left of her.

It feels like she’s been trapped, spiralling down in her own mind, for an eternity before Cassian rescues her.

His heavy boots step closer to her, cautious and quiet, his hands moving slowly to take hold of hers. His gentle fingers pry hers free from her white-knuckle grip digging into her arm and around her crystal necklace. Her breath catches, interrupting its fast pace. Pins and needles prickle at her skin.

She stares at her hands in his. Both hers and Cassian’s are callused and scarred, each mark telling a tale. His hands are warmer than hers. She remembers again the way they felt on her back as he held her briefly on the beach, their warmth emanating comfort. His thumbs rub gentle circles over and around her aching knuckles and he teases her fingers out of their clawed grip, his touch easing her panicked heart and mind until her jaw loosens and the throbbing ache fades. Hesitantly, she looks up at him to see him beholding her the same way he did in the turbolift on Scarif. His eyes bore deep into her, till she’s sure her soul is naked before him. Unexpectedly, she welcomes it. She wants him to see her, all of her: body, mind, and soul. Let him see how much she wants him, how much she cares for him, how much she _loves_ him. How much more harm can it do now?

But this time she recognises what she was unable to fully decipher before. There’s no mistaking the affection in his gaze now. The tightness in her chest vanishes, just leaving the heavy drumming of her heart reaching out to him.

At last, he speaks so softly she almost doesn’t hear him over her pulse.

“I wore them because _you_ gave them to me.”

Oh. _Oh._ Her mouth drops open. Short of breath, she’s overcome with a pleasant warmth that fills her to the core. Jyn’s gaze drops to their entwined hands, mouth opening and closing soundlessly as she searches for a reply that can somehow convey even a small portion of the overwhelming happiness she suddenly finds herself swimming in. How can she possibly reciprocate adequately enough? How does she let him know just how much she appreciates and returns the profound love encompassed in that simple yet deeply meaningful sentiment? He’s said more in those few words than she could ever hope to communicate in all her fumbling confessions.

Swept up in her trial, it’s a shock when Cassian shifts backwards and releases her hands. She doesn’t let him get far, she holds on and cups his larger hands between her small gloved ones. Looking up, she takes in the small frown creasing his forehead, eyebrows drawn downwards the same as the corners of his thinly pressed mouth. His sad eyes are fixed on their hands.

She’s taken too long to respond – he must be concerned he’s said the wrong thing – and she needs to dispel his anxiety, like he soothed hers.

Slowly, she reaches up to gently smooth away his frown and trace her fingers feather light down to his parted lips, enjoying the way his eyelids flutter closed briefly as she passes near them. She cups his sharp chin and feels the tension in his jaw dissipate. Rubbing her thumb over the corner of his mouth, she waits for him to lift his gaze to hers again. The desperate hope in his beautiful eyes fans the flames of her own. Painstakingly slowly, giving him every opportunity to pull away, she grasps his hand in her free hand and brings them up to kiss his fingertips. As she brushes them with her lips, he turns his head to press his lips to her thumb. It’s the lightest of touches.

Neither one of them looks away from the other’s eyes. Their gazes are locked in wonder as they kiss each other in this way for the first time. His blissful sigh against her palm sends shivers down her spine. Cassian gently holds her hand to his soft, warm mouth, kissing each of her fingertips in turn as she kisses his. Their movements mirror each other, perfectly in sync.

As they kiss for the fifth time, she feels the soft caress of his breath on her cheek and realises how close they’ve drawn to one another. Cassian is leaning down into her as she strains upwards towards him. They’ve gravitated towards each other until they’re but centimetres apart. She breathes in deeply. The scent of sweat, oil and spices fills her lungs. This time she lets it wash over her, buoying her up. Her thumb strokes from his lips along his jaw to his neck. His stubble rasps pleasingly. She imagines it scratching down her chest to between her legs and feels heat rushing down her body. Jyn releases his hand so she can grasp onto his shirt for purchase as she strains upwards, reaching up around his neck to pull him closer. Cassian supports her neck with one hand and slips the other around her waist, holding her steady as he closes in. They wobble briefly with the sudden change in weight distribution and she laughs lightly at their fumbling. She savours the endearing look of nervousness on Cassian’s face before stroking it away.

 _Slow,_ she reminds herself. _Take your time. No need to rush this._ Their gazes hold each other right up until the last moment before their lips tentatively meet at last.

It’s as soft as their other kisses, the lightest press against each other then the faintest whisper exhaled into each other’s parted lips as they hover millimetres apart, as though they need to catch their breath before continuing. With the slow dance of their lips, they learn the shape of each other. She can already recognise his smile against hers. Not just a half-smile, but one of his true ones, unrestrained and nothing held back. Jyn swallows every little noise he makes, savouring the spicy-sweet taste of him and rewarding him with moans of her own. She loses herself in the titillating sensations until at last Cassian pulls away slightly, contemplating her, his eyes dark with desire. They’re both panting despite the leisurely pace they had set.

They stay like that a few seconds, recovering, foreheads pressed together, Cassian’s breath warming Jyn pleasantly. Jyn admires his beauty and lets herself become immersed in the elation of having tasted him at last, her smile so wide it aches. The fingers of one hand weave themselves into the sweaty hair at the nape of his neck as the others rest over his heart. His heart pounds against her trembling palm. The thought that she is the cause is extremely gratifying.

Cassian’s tongue darts out to wet his swollen lips and ardor flares within her. It fills her with an impassioned fever, unlike that of the embarrassment of before, which is a rapidly fading memory. Greedy to taste more of him, she spins them – controlling it so he doesn’t hit the wall with force – pinning him there. She surges up into him, stretching up on tiptoes. They meet with fervour, noses and teeth clashing until she grips his hair tighter to guide him into tilting to one side. His mouth falls open as he groans quietly. Then not so quietly when she tugs him down towards her. She coaxes him to open for her, slipping her tongue in, eager to satisfy her feverish thirst. The vibrations from the desperate sounds he makes reverberate through her. She wants to feel it again and again, find a hundred and more ways to make him gasp and moan and sigh. His fingers glide their way from the nape of her neck up through her hair, tangling themselves in the tresses. Jyn enjoys the way his fist clenches in it whenever she makes him moan, like he needs to hang onto something. Given how much easier the angle has gotten for her, it seems he’s in need of more support than the wall is giving him.

Their lips maneuver back and forth, going from soft and gentle to hard and fast in the blink of an eye, but so far she’s had the upper hand. Then the tip of his tongue glides across her lips at the same time as he draws his nails along the back of her neck. Lightning cascades down her spine. Jyn gasps. Caught off guard, her legs collapsing beneath her, she seeks support astride his thigh, clutching at his shoulders. His groan melts into a pleased hum and he teases at her lips again. At last she grants his request and opens for him, her tongue welcoming his. It tingles pleasantly. The sensation makes her quiver as she presses herself full against the firmness of him, her knees weakening further.

Before she can regain her senses he’s lifted her by the thighs and her back is thumping up against the wall. Her arms and legs instinctively wrap themselves tightly around his neck and hips, hooking him in closer, grinding his core up against hers. They moan into each other’s mouths and she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He chases her deep-throated hum. Her riposte is quick and decisive. A sharp nip and tug at his lip and she’s learnt another way to tease that groan out of him.

The tension that has been steadily building between them for months spikes into a peak. It’s becoming a crescendo that blocks out all else. Their hands explore greedily. Jyn finds a small gap at Cassian’s back where he missed tucking part of his shirt in and slips her hand under the worn fabric. She trails her fingertips through the sheen of sweat on his skin – sparks tingling at the feel of the smooth scars as she crosses them – and Cassian shudders, his back arching as he presses himself closer to her, solid and firm. Jyn worries she hurt him or he didn’t want her touching him there, but his mouth hungrily feeds on her neck before she can pull back or say anything. He takes her breath away, and all thoughts with it. His hands grasp at her, frantically roaming, seeming to instinctively find the impressions they burned into her. They stroke and fumble and she needs them lower, needs him to—

“Finally!” Bodhi’s shout interrupts them and they spring apart like a guilty pair of teenagers to face his delighted grin. She only just manages to recover from Cassian dropping her and not fall to the deck by bracing against the wall. It is far from graceful. Cassian, for his part, seems reluctant to turn fully towards Bodhi. Jyn doesn’t need to look down to know why.

She is suddenly uncomfortably aware of how warm her skin is and how her hair is now trailing down her back and over one shoulder. With a momentary glance to the side, she sees Cassian glance back at her with equally mussed hair, red ears, and plump red lips. They look back at Bodhi as one to plead ridiculously pointless excuses.

“We were just—”

“I was just—”

“Took you karking long enough.” Bodhi leans in the doorway with arms crossed. “Honestly, it was getting to the point we were all considering just locking you in a closet together, given how determined you seemed to ignore the obvious.”

Jyn splutters indignantly, failing to find a suitably sharp retaliation, her flustered mind supplying an ineffective mix of insults that won’t add up to the full sum of her ire.

 _“Bodhi,”_ Cassian chides, the force of it blunted by his unkempt appearance.

Adopting a gentler tone and raising his hands palms out, Bodhi smiles at them. “Hey, I’m happy for you guys alright? Glad you finally got it together. But now – _get a room._ I’ve got work to do in here if Cassian is too busy _getting busy_ to do it. And I really don’t fancy having to put earplugs in or clean up whatever mess you make as well.” He makes shooing motions at them as he walks over to the toolbox and crouches down to peer into the open deck.

Jyn recovers first and turns to find Cassian stiff as a board with the most intensely neutral look on his face that she’s ever seen. It’s the first time she’s found that expression cute. She’s glad she’s not alone in being embarrassed by Bodhi’s blunt tactics.

 _Kriff it._ Shrugging slightly to herself, she grips the front of Cassian’s shirt and leans in close to him ignoring the self-satisfied smirk she just knows Bodhi is sending their way. “Come on, Captain,” she purrs playfully into his ear as she flattens one palm over his heart and slides the other round his waist, “why don’t you come to my bunk and show me how far down those stripes go?”

Unable to stop herself, she gives his enticingly firm ass a squeeze, revelling in the way it makes him jump and how his breath quickens to catch up with the throbbing of his heart. She grins at his sudden struggle for breath and the low rumble in his throat before being captivated by the intense hunger in his dark eyes.

“Come _on,_ guys. I’m serious. Get out of here. Don’t make me fetch Kaytoo.” Suddenly Bodhi’s hands are pushing them stumbling out the room. “I don’t care if it’s our room or wherever Jyn – so long as it ain’t the cockpit – just.. stick a sock over the keypad so I know it’s not safe for me to enter without blinding myself, okay?” Not relenting long enough for her to recover, he adds one last comment far too casually to be innocent: “Oh, and by the way, you’ve got oily handprints all over your face and ass.” He grins wickedly as he presses the door control, banishing them to the corridor.

Jyn and Cassian stand there awkwardly for a few seconds. Music from one of Bodhi’s favourite artists suddenly starts blaring from the other side of the door. Jyn rolls her eyes when she recognises the song as one about two lovers who won’t admit their feelings for each other and is willing to bet – certain that Kay’s odds would support it – that he chose it on purpose.

Cassian holds up his oil stained hands with an apologetic half-smile. Jyn wipes a sleeve over the grease covering her face. They both exhale with a silent laugh.

“Sorry,” Cassian says quietly, his smile quickly fading, like it always does.

Jyn lifts a shoulder in casual indifference. “I don’t mind,” she replies, hoping he knows she's being honest.

“You probably want to clean up. You can have the ‘fresher first?” he offers a little too briskly, brow furrowing as he rubs his greasy palms on his shirt, his tone that little bit _too_ even. It’s painfully obvious he’s giving her an easy out if she wants to take it. She really hopes it doesn’t come from any regret on his part.

Choosing to risk it, she grins daringly as she steps closer to him and takes his hand. “Not much point if you’re just going to oil me up again.”

Jyn delights in the way he blushes, swallowing hard on nothing, his eyes dipping down briefly before sliding from their linked hands up to her face with a nervous smile. “Captain’s quarters has a bigger bunk...” he murmurs hesitantly.

“Then lead the way, _Captain.”_


End file.
